


Down for the Count

by anubischick



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Threats of Violence, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anubischick/pseuds/anubischick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something about the way that the Count said personal satisfaction and put his hands on Felicity and the way she kept shaking even after he'd stopped that set off alarm bells in my head, so I thought I'd work out why. This short vignette is the result. Spoilers for 2x07 State v. Queen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down for the Count

"Vertigo! Gotcha!"

"Funny; you took the words right out of my mouth."

She whirled at the sound of his oily voice and her heart stuttered in her chest. The Count, standing between her and the doorway, smiling his creepy smile as his eyes traversed her.

"And who are you, pretty blonde thing?"

She sidled instinctively further into the van, further from the exit she knew but also further from him.

"Oh, no way out that way, I'm afraid. Now tell me, what are you doing here?" He stepped forwarded suddenly, slamming out an arm by the side of her head to prevent her further movement and leered.

"Are you in pain, goldilocks? Looking for a fix only I can provide?" He stressed the word 'I' and leaned in to breathe along her neck.

"No, you don't look like a junkie, and you'd have no reason to come here even if you were."

He pulled back and she saw the rat cunning flare in his eyes. His hand moved from the wall beside her to grab her shoulder and she flinched which only brought a larger smile to his lips.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss pretty-in-pink? Well, let's see what I can find out on my own."

"No, I..." 

"Sshhh, I'm going to try the non-invasive way first, don't make me change my mind."

She shuddered again as his hands moved down her sides, in an intimate parody of a police pat down until her reached the pockets of her coat, raising an eyebrow he fished around and pulled out her ID badge, twining the lanyard around his fingers he stepped back into the doorway to look at it in a clearer light. Without him standing so close her fear began to abate and she cast her eyes around, looking for a weapon. Dismissing most as impractical she had just lit upon the rows of syringes and an idea began to form when he spoke again.

"Ah, ah, ah, naughty thoughts; best to stop those now, Fel-i-city." He drawled out her name, holding up her Queen Consolidated ID badge.

"Executive assistant, hmm? Now what's a perky little secretary doing messing around in grown up business? Playing detective, are you? Always wanted to be a cop when you were growing up, but didn't have the skills perhaps?" 

She bridled at his tone; nothing got her anger in gear faster than someone dismissing her skills, though 'perky' appeared to be high on the list too.

"I'm not a secretary," she hissed her anger giving her the courage to take a step towards him and his eyes widened a little in surprise.

"No, I don't think you are, a bit of a hellcat it seems, and I do so like taming the wild ones." He leered again and her anger retreated in the face of his response.

"Now, what are the chances that someone from Queen Consolidated would be here, in my little happiness van, hmmm?"

"Thousands of people work for Queen Consolidated..." she began

"True, and with half a million people in this city it could be a coincidence, but I don't believe in coincidences. Now let's see." He stepped forward again, his eyes never leaving hers and she swallowed against the dryness in her throat. With a hand against her shoulder he ran the other slowly down her side to reach the as yet untouched coat pocket, smiling with delight as he found what he was seeking.

"Ah, here, the wonders of modern technology," he said holding up her phone. Turning away slightly he scrolled through the options. "Let's see, recent calls, Roy, John, ah, Oliver." His smile grew triumphant, "quite a lot of calls to Oliver."

"He's my boss," she hazarded "I need to call him."

"Really? So you're Oliver Queen's secretary, how convenient."

"Executive assistant," she bridled, astounded by her defence of a title she never wanted.

"But 'Oliver'," he smiled his oily smile again, he never seemed to stop smiling, "not, Mr Queen, not even Oliver Queen, just Oliver. Have you got a little crush on the boss pretty Felicity? Does he even know?" 

"He..."

"No matter, though you know my product could make all that pain go away, if you wanted to try. Do you want to try, Felicity?"

"I'd rather die."

"Death is an end to pain, and whilst I do pride myself on offering that to my willing customers, I'd hardly get any repeat business if I offered a permanent solution. That's just not very sensible, now is it? Being a secre-, sorry Executive Assistant to a business mogul I would have though you understood that."

"You aren't in business; you peddle in the pain of others." 

_"Caveat Emptor_ my dear, but you're wrong, I enjoy the pain of others, but I offer bliss. Still that's not why you are here, is it? Though given a little time I'm sure I could change your mind about it. I'm sure I could change your mind about quite a few things."

She shuddered again, retreating back the step she earlier taken towards him in anger until her back hit the supply cupboard.

"Oh, no, pretty Felicity, we can't have that." He stepped forward and slid his hand down her arm to wrap around her hand and she couldn't help her quiver at his touch on her skin. 

"We're going to take a little trip to the office, and you're going to smile and wave me past security as if I was your long lost brother returned to the family fold."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because," he reached behind him to pull a knife from his pocket, "if you don't I'm going to have to hurt you a little, and then after a while when you do agree to take me to Queen Consolidated, I'm just going to have to shoot one of the guards on the desk, I'm sure they'll be more than one. Tell you what, if you're nice to me, I'll even let you choose which one gets to live. But if you just take me, we can avoid all of that unpleasantness and blood and screaming, and this soft skin won't have to be marked quite yet." She could feel him running the flat of the blade along her cheek and down her neck and she could see the madness in his eyes then, more than before, the madness that wanted her to resist, wanted her to give it a reason to lash out, a reason to hurt her.

She swallowed and nodded just once, and her suspicions were confirmed as he grimaced slightly, the first time she'd seen the smile disappear, as if she'd taken away his toy, but the flash of annoyance was gone almost as soon as it appeared and he smiled gleefully again.

"Good girl, off we trot then."

The car ride to Queen Consolidated was hell; her eyes kept straying from the road to the gun lying casually on the Count's thigh, pointing directly at her side with his fingers playing absent-mindedly over the barrel, but always within a quick reach of the trigger. She contemplated running the car off the road, slamming it into a telephone pole and taking her chances with the airbag, but each time she considered a likely target he shifted bringing her eyes involuntarily to his face where he smiled at her again, that knowing smile that seemed to reach inside her skull and pluck out the idea before it had fully formed.

"You're a pawn in this game, Felicity, and I'm after the queen." He giggled a little at his own joke. "Oh come on now, that was funny, don't you think?"

"No, I don't."

"Now really, there's no cause to be rude," he said in mock outrage, before his voice dropped to a chillingly conversational tone, "after all pawns get sacrificed, and you don't want that to happen, now do you?"

She breathed deeply and concentrated on the road.

"I asked you a question, Felicity."

"No, I don't."

"Good, that wasn't so hard now was it? Oh and look, Queen Consolidated, you made excellent time, my dear. Now, dry your eyes and smile, it wouldn't do to alarm anyone."

It didn't take more than a few minutes to get him past the guards on duty; she was well known to all of them and equally well known for keeping late hours.

"I hope he appreciates the hours you put in Ms Smoak." Stan said as she flashed her ID and what she hoped wasn't a nervous smile.

"Me too," she said as she kept moving always aware of the Count behind her, the gun concealed in his coat but she was sure pointing at the space between her shoulder blades.

"Nicely done," he commented as they rode up to the executive floor, "you just saved that man's life, aren't you just a pint-size heroine."

"I don't know what you are hoping to achieve, there is nothing here for you."

"Not yet, no, but soon there will be, very soon."

"Now," he said as the doors slid open, "ladies first."

She preceded him through the lift lobby and past her desk into Oliver's office.

He looked around impressed, "so this is what billions of dollars buys you," he said walking to the window to look out over the city. "Shame about the view, all those dark spots where the Glades used to be. I'm surprised he can look at it every day, though perhaps martyr is his preferred _modus operandi."_

"He's not a martyr, he's acknowledging the responsibility his family owes the city."

"Really dear, your adoration is getting a little trying." He looked her up and down idly scratching his chin with the barrel of the revolver.

"Take off your coat."

She stalled, taking a small step back.

"Come now, take it off, you really don't want to have me do it."

She drew the coat from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor at her feet.

"Not bad," he smirked, "though I'll have to teach you how to do that more slowly in the future." He walked around her leisurely, making an appreciative noise when he was behind her. 

"Oh, a cut out, I do like those, so demure from the front and risqué from behind."

His fingers ran through her hair moving it over her shoulder before stroking lightly over the area of bare skin between her shoulders. She clenched her fists and shifted her weight slightly but his only response was a slight chuckle and she felt the cold barrel of the pistol against the side of her neck.

"Now, now, no heroics, Princess. That's not your role in today's little drama."

"You really like the sound of your own voice don't you?"

"I do, how astute of you to notice, my dear. There's hope for you yet. Now," he indicated one of the board room chairs in front of Oliver's desk, "sit."

She slowly lowered herself into the chair and watched as he pulled a zip-tie from his pocket.

"Funny, I always carry some of these around with me, just the sort of man I am, I suppose."

"Sadistic."

"At times." he acknowledged, "here, bind your wrist to the chair."

Her breath caught but she reached out a trembling hand and wrapped it around her wrist and the arm of the chair, threading it through took her some effort but eventually her left hand was fixed securely. He leant over and captured her other wrist and bound it to the other arm.

"There, see how much easier things are when we just get along?"

He rose, his fingers running along her arm as he helped himself to a glass of whisky from the drinks cabinet.

"Would you like one? It would calm your nerves, though, hmm," he looked at her bound wrists, "I'd have to feed it to you."

"No."

"Probably best." He settled into Oliver's chair and put his feet up on the desk. 

"Now let's see all safe and secure, yes? Time to give Mr Queen a little surprise." He held up her phone and grinned before hitting the speed-dial.

"Felicity."

Her heart leapt as she heard Oliver say her name, distant but still audible over the connection with the Count and she exulted inside, this lunatic had no idea what he was bringing down on his head, he thought he was dealing with Oliver Queen, CEO, but it was the Arrow that would come to her rescue. She was jolted out of her pleasant thoughts as he ran his fingers along her arms possessively and the sobs she 'd been holding in burst forth again, but then he waved her badge in her face and the anger returned, and the feeling of satisfaction in knowing he was biting off more than he could chew, but that fleeting joy was dashed with his final words. 

_"Ipso facto,_ Arrow." 

He knew, he knew who Oliver was, and she'd let herself become the bait in the trap.

The stunned look on her face made him smile as he leant against the front of the desk after Oliver had hung up.

"Oh, pretty thing, did you think I hadn't worked it out? Did you think he was going to come in here all clad in leather and righteous anger and I'd be so shocked at seeing the Arrow rather than Oliver Queen that he would have the time to save you?"

She started up at him, tears quietly coursing down her cheeks.

"Fool me once, and he did you know. That first time, your Oliver."

"He's not my Oliver."

"Quiet, I'm musing." 

He drew the knife from his pocket and absently ran it along the skin of her exposed arm, "I can read people you know, always could. You for instance are painfully transparent, positively pellucid. But Oliver, I didn't see anything other than what he wanted me to see, the little rich boy pandering to his sycophantic clientèle. Can I be honest with you Felicity? I feel that I can, I was a little disappointed; Oliver Queen, lost on an island for 5 years, I was sure there would have been some darkness in him, something that grew in him that enabled him to survive, but I didn't see it. Of course now I know it was there all along, just not in Oliver, no it was all in the Hood, the place where he stored all that darkness, all the rage and vengeance, but now. Now he's the Arrow," he sneered the name, "his new sobriquet, new man, weak man."

"You still don't know him. He's stronger than you. He'll win."

"Sweet, loyal Felicity, he really isn't, and he isn't going to be able to save you either, I am so sorry he's going to disappoint, but perhaps I can make it up to you."

He grabbed her chin roughly with his fingers and tilted her face up. 

"Such a pretty mouth," he snarled before he forced his lips on hers. His hand wound around her ponytail and yanked it back violently making her gasp in pain and his tongue drove into her mouth. Her hands scrabbled against the arms of the chair held fast by her restraints but her feet were still free so she lashed out, her sharp heel connecting painfully with his shin. The momentum pushed her wheeled chair away as he stumbled back from her attack, putting a few feet between them.

"Be still my heart. You really are a hellcat." He grinned as he wiped his lip. He pocketed both knife and gun and after draining his glass took a tentative step towards her, noting no lack of movement in his leg he closed the distance, but this time skirting around to come up behind her.

"I think somewhere a little more private is in order," he quipped as he pushed the chair forward into the board room. His voice dropped to a husky purr as he ran his finger tip along her neck. "He'll be here soon, your Arrow, speeding to you as it were, but once he's dead, then you and I can continue this engaging conversation."

"Though," he said lowering is lips to the place his fingers just traversed, "I suppose a short tête-à-tête wouldn't be out of order, to fill the time." His tongue licked down her neck and she recoiled as much as she could but he held the chair with one hand and her hair once again fisted in his other making movement difficult.

"Fear has such a pleasant taste," he purred along her neck. "Tangy, acidic, like a young Riesling. Something you want to savour, let it wash over your tongue; fill your mouth with its bite. Or perhaps," his teeth grazed along her neck, "you want to bite back."

Her fingers curled in on themselves, nails biting into her palm as she tried to quell the fear inside; to give his monster less to feed upon.

"How about that, do you think your Oliver would notice if I left a mark on you right here, where he could see it when walks in here to heroically rescue you, or do you think he wouldn't notice? Like he hasn't noticed anything else?"

"You made a mistake," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"Really? Please Felicity," her name felt dirty as he breathed it into her neck, "enlighten me."

"You let him know you know, he would have walked in here as Oliver, but now he's coming as the Arrow."

"Is that all? Oh, I'm not worried pretty one, haven't you heard, he's sworn off killing his enemies, whilst I, I take great pleasure in it. It's a shame I won't be able to pay him back for all the pain he caused me, can't risk it, he's such a sly one. I'm afraid his end will have to be quick, but you my dear, with you a little _quid pro quo_ can be achieved."

He stepped away from her then, walking back into Oliver's office and fixing himself another drink, allowing her a few minutes to digest that disturbing implication.

"I wonder if I'll miss him."

"What?"

"Miss him," he said coming back toward the board room from the window where he'd been nursing his whisky.

"He's irritating, but he is...entertaining, and I do lack for challenges, yes," he finally conceded, emptying the glass."I believe I shall miss that ghastly green vigilante after all."

"He's not a vigilante, he doesn't kill randomly to meet some agenda, he doesn't make people suffer, he's a good man, a hero." She shot back hotly.

"That is true, well, not the good appellation, no-one can do what he does and be good, but he's not random, you're right, he's very predictable and that, today will be his downfall. He could no more leave a damsel in distress than I could avoid distressing her."

"I am not a damsel!"

"No, you're not," he placed the newly emptied glass on Oliver's desk before moving back behind her, and she flinched as his fingers ghosted over her neck, "you're quite an odd mix of defiance and despair, I am so looking forward to taking you apart to see how you work."

His fingers wrapped around her hair, alternating tugging her head back and relaxing as the strands moved through his fingers, and she sobbed helplessly, but then she heard it and her breath caught, the sound of the elevator doors opening.

"Sshhh now," he whispered against her neck, "your hero is here."

 

She hadn't wanted Oliver to kill him, not for her, not for anyone, but now that it was over, now that she was safe and she was, because he'd told her she was, and his hand was wrapped around hers and his eyes so soft as he told her there wasn't a choice she could admit she was glad he was. Glad he would never touch her again; glad he was gone from the world and his poison with him, but mostly glad that Oliver would never know. Because yes he was, she thought, he was going to hurt me, the overdose of Vertigo in the syringe would have been a blessing compared to what he was planning to do to me, he was going to hurt me in the most brutal way a man can hurt a woman, and if you had known you'd have killed him twice over without even that moment of regret over breaking your vow, and she couldn't have borne that.

It was just another secret she'd have to keep, and she was getting better at that.

**Author's Note:**

> This one disturbed me a little, but then the whole scene with Count Vertigo and Felicity disturbed me too, she just seemed too upset for something as banal as was portrayed on screen, and as we know the Count is sadistic and obsessive this just seemed to explain why she couldn't stop shaking even after he'd stopped touching her (watch the scene and look at her right hand) and why she flinched when Oliver touched her after he'd rescued her but before she'd looked up to see it was him. Still it went a little further than I expected.
> 
> Now I feel the need to add to this with a couple of happier chapters, perhaps create a 'times Felicity was kissed in that office' series. The canon one with Ray being next and then a (currently) non-canon one with Oliver. 
> 
> Anyway I can understand if I don't get happy feedback one this one, or at all...but it would still be good and help feed the muse. :)


End file.
